Anarchy
by angiosarcoma
Summary: The Earth has long been witness to the battle between demons and humans. Ranma, as a demon hunter, knows this well. When he is captured, though, he comes to realize that the conflict is far more complex than he was ever aware.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I claim no ownership to Ranma ½ or any of the associated characters. They belong to people who are far richer (and, to be honest, probably betters authors) than me.

**A.N.:** Well, after a hiatus from writing, I'm finally back on the scene. After doing a bit more reading, maturing some, and learning a bit about how to actually write, I'm hoping I'll be able to produce something worthwhile this time. That whole Prompts thing I had going seems pretty lame, even to me. I'll keep it up on the off-chance that someone might enjoy reading it, and I may even dump a few of my more idiotic ideas in there when I'm not feeling the need to write other things, but it's dead for the most part.

I'd like to end this note with a huge thanks to all my previous readers, and especially to **Major Mike Powell III, Burning Frost, Knyght, Lightning-Alchemist-Rini, Kurt Baros aka The Falcon, SuperLardBucket, and eddog2323, **my reviewers. Guys and gals, without your support and criticism I'd never have worked up the confidence I needed to post this, let alone write it. You have my eternal thanks.

Anarchy – Chapter 1

"Get up." Ranma opened his eyes, fighting against the exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm him. After a short moment, he forced himself to his feet and looked toward the speaker. A pale face mounted on a distorted conglomeration of flesh and limbs greeted his gaze. Ranma was no longer disturbed by waking to the sight of the demon; he had grown used to it over the past two weeks, ever since he'd been captured.

The stranger shoved an old piece of meat and stale bread through the bars separating the two of them; it was meager fare, but Ranma was willing to eat anything at this point, starved as he was. His jailor spoke while he consumed the food in frenzy. "When you have finished eating, you will be taken to the arena for your next bout."

Ranma glared at the demon as he finished the last crumbs of his meal, but remained silent; he preferred to keep minimal contact with the stoic creature. The rattle of keys could be heard for a moment, followed by the creak of the door swinging open, and Ranma stepped outside of his confinement.

They walked in silence down the dark and monotonous halls. Ranma had long since grown used to the experience; he'd put up with the same thing every day for the past two weeks, and he suspected that he would have to deal with it for far longer.

As he often did in the quiet and solitude of the prison, Ranma started to reminisce. He couldn't remember much of the time when he'd lived with his mother because he had only been with her for the first six years of his life; his father had taken him away from their home so that the traditions of the family could be passed down to him. While he missed the happy life that he vaguely remembered with his mother, and while his life on the road hunting the supernatural was stressful and not all that enjoyable, Ranma had been pleased with how his life was proceeding; he was a great martial artist and he was always being given the chance to use his hard-earned skills to help those weaker and less fortunate than himself. It was satisfying, he thought, to see the gratitude in their faces.

Unfortunately, less than a month ago Ranma and his father had been ambushed by a pack of wandering demons in the wilderness of China, and in the ensuing conflict they had become separated. He had been surrounded and overpowered, and the next thing that he remembered was waking up in his cell.

So it was that Ranma had become a sort of gladiator in the demon's arena. Every day he was sent to kill some strange and grotesque beast on a near empty stomach, and every night he went to sleep more tired, hungry, and hurting than when he'd woken up. He had been told that he could eventually win his freedom, but he was beginning to doubt that claim more and more with each passing day.

Ranma was removed from thoughts by the loud screams, hoots, and hollers of the crowd. He had just entered the arena for his first fight of the day. He quickly stretched, reaccustoming himself with his aches and pains before the battle. The sound of the gate opening on the other side of the structure caught his attention, and he turned to face it. At first, he could only vaguely make out anything in the shadows, but then his new foe stepped into the light. Its teeth were bared and its sharps claws extended; the deep growling only made it appear more vicious. The thing was rather small, he noted, or perhaps compact would be a better description; despite coming only above his knees in height, the beast had thick, corded muscles wrapped about it from head to toe. 'Probably really strong _and_ fast then,' he thought. It would be a difficult battle, if nothing else. With a small, self-assured grin, Ranma fell into a combat stance. 'This should be interesting.' As the announcer's voice died down and the starting bell tolled, Ranma let loose a primal cry for battle and rushed forward to meet his opponent head on. He would win this battle and any that followed; he would never stop fighting until he was free.

***

Hundreds of miles away in Tokyo, a similar sight could be found. Hibiki Ryoga, his own cry on his lips, rushed into battle with his own supernatural foe. The insect-like creature shrieked in reply and barreled toward him. Grinning in anticipation as it came closer, he removed the umbrella strapped to his back and swung it around to hit the creature. He just missed it as it swerved to the side. Ryoga whirled around as the insect made another charge. Rather than meet it head-on again, Ryoga removed three of the bandannas that he always wore, and, with a small dosage of ki to harden them, let the razor sharp pieces of fabric fly. The demon avoided all of them with ease, but its position afterward left it unable to dodge the umbrella as it came out of its last wild turn.

The thing crashed through one of the surrounding walls and was buried by the rubble, but Ryoga didn't let his guard drop. Sure enough, only seconds later the insect burst out of the debris, screeching in rage. Ryoga regarded it with caution as it brought its long tail around to face him. He brought his umbrella in font of him, flaring out the protective covering as a storm or sharp darts sprung from the monster's appendage. The projectiles punctured his unnaturally dense shield, but none reached him.

He saw it coming in for another charge. Growling, he brought his arm back and let loose the umbrella in a wide arc; it missed the monster and cut right through the building behind it, but the insect was forced into the air where Ryoga met it with a devastating haymaker. Ryoga caught the umbrella on its return arc even as he touched down and drove it into his fallen opponent. The beast twitched for a moment before falling still. "Heh, too easy!"

His own foe defeated, Ryoga took a short moment to observe the rest of the battle. The first sight that came to him was of Kuno and the older boy's band of kendoists. Ryoga was not fond him; Tatewaki was egotistical, foolish, rash, and he was always pestering Miss Akane! It was enough to draw Ryoga's considerable wrath upon him, but despite his personal opinion, Ryoga could not deny his contribution to the Nerima Defense Force. Even as he watched, Kuno and his small band of followers were bringing their considerable force and teamwork to bear on a pair of the beasts that threatened to overwhelm Tokyo. It was, Ryoga admitted grudgingly, rather impressive.

Kuno's sister, Kodachi, was fighting nearby, her gymnastics ribbon flashing through the air and biting at an adversary of her own. If there was one person that Ryoga disliked as much as Kuno Tatewaki, it was her; she shared all of her brother's faults, from her pig-headedness to her disdain for all those of lesser class. Luckily, he noted, she was focused on the fight and unable to cause any trouble. It was just one less thing to worry about.

Ryoga's eyes roamed over the multitude of martial artists, mystics, and other combatants making up their little army until he saw the last three of his personal acquaintances: Kuonji Ukyo, Tendo Soun, and his daughter, Miss Akane herself. The three made a good team, Ryoga thought, likely due to the close bond the two girls shared. He watched in admiration as Akane and her father double-teamed one of the insects while Ukyo provided support from a distance. The demon died, and as two more took its place the trio adapted accordingly. Even if they fought well together, though, they were still being overwhelmed, and that was where he came in. With a great heave, Ryoga tossed his heavy umbrella at the offenders. They scattered, and Ryoga leapt once more into the fray.

It was hours later that the group of defenders met at the Tendo Dojo. Ever since the demons had begun their assault on the city, it had been the base of operations for the Nerima Defense Force. Tendo Soun, the owner and master of the dojo had volunteered it. They met once a week, usually, but Soun, one of the founding and leading members, had called for them to gather tonight. Ryoga wasn't sure why, but he would soon find out.

"May I have your attention," called Soun. Everyone present quieted and looked to him, waiting for answers. "As you know, the rate of demon attacks on Nerima prefecture is rapidly increasing; not only has the rate grown, the numbers of the enemy has as well." There was impatient mumbling in the background; they all knew this, and their patience was dwindling each day as the fatigue from the attacks grew. Soun stumbled for a moment, letting their displeasure distract him, before continuing. "Yes, well, like I said, you're already aware of that. But, uh, there is something else." The mumbling ceased; curiosity and not a little bit of trepidation took them over. "It has come to my attention that not only have the frequency and ranks swelled, but the demons themselves are improving."

"What are you getting at? We all could've figured that out ourselves!" interrupted one of the newer, more impatient members, displeased with the older man's slow build up.

Ryoga frowned. "Shut up." The man looked offended, but Ryoga pressed on before he could interrupt, letting his displeasure be known. "Mister Tendo is an important and dedicated fighter. This is his house you're standing in, so show a little respect!" Honestly, the nerve of this man! How dare he stand in the Tendos home and belittle them!

"Ah, yes, thank you, Ryoga," Soun said before the tension could escalate. "Now, as I was saying, the demons themselves are improving. Furthermore, there has become a noticeable trend among all of them. They all share many features: the wings, tails, pigmentation, and, most importantly of all, they all show the same adaptations to our attacks. I talked this over with Mister Ichiro, and he came to some rather, eh… startling conclusions, to say the least. He'll explain." Soun looked relieved to have the spotlight taken off of him; the man had never dealt very well with stress.

Ichiro stepped forward. He was an older man, in his sixties, Ryoga guessed, with balding, grey hair, and was rather short, just under five and half feet in height; imposing didn't describe him at all, unless you knew what he was capable of, and everyone there had seen him work his powerful magic. When he spoke, it was with a slight rasp, a testament to the pipe he always carried with him. "Yes, thank you, Master Tendo. I, too, have noticed these changes in our enemy and have though long and hard on the implications. There are many, not all clear, but the similarities between all of them would imply that they are somehow interconnected. This is, of course, all speculation on my part, but if that is the case it would be through this connection that they have been able to adapt to our attacks and strategies so effectively. They have grown faster and stronger, developed tougher hides, all to combat our attacks. It has become clear that unless they are removed quickly, we will soon be overwhelmed."

A hush fell over everyone. The situation had been bad at first, and everyone knew that it wasn't improving. But were things really progressing in such a hopeless direction? There seemed to be no end to the amount of demons they fought; how could they defeat innumerable foes that grew more difficult to kill with each loss? "So what do we do?" Akane inquired softly.

Ichiro sighed. "That, unfortunately, I do not know."

"So, what, do we just roll over and die? I refuse to believe that we can't do anything!" The man who had interrupted Soun spoke again, and with him many of the others joined his protests. Things were getting out of control, and someone needed to restore order.

"Quiet, all of you!" bellowed Ryoga. The yelling stopped, but the tension remained. "Do any of you have a solution?" There was nervous shuffling, but no one answered. "No? Then don't say anything! Do you think fighting ourselves as well as them will improve anything? Don't be stupid!"

No one spoke for a moment, and the atmosphere seemed far heavier than it had ever been. Soun broke the tension. "I think we should all leave for a time and think on this matter for a few days. We'll meet again at the regular time." Murmurs of agreement drifted into Ryoga's ears. It was probably for the best; the last thing they needed was for the group to divide itself because someone lost their temper. Still, as he left into the night, he couldn't feel hopeful or at all positive. All that he felt was the despair that had plagued him all his life.

***

Cologne, matriarch and prominent warrior of Joketsuzoku, gazed upon the man in front of her. He didn't appear impressive at first glance, what with his overweight and cumbersome form, but she knew that he was quite capable. Saotome Genma had arrived at her village a week ago, half dead and requesting aid; he had been granted it, and after his remarkable recovery she had set him to work manning the fields to repay them. He had asked to see her, but she had put aside his requests; she had many responsibilities, after all, and they left her with little time to attend to the outsider's needs.

Things would have remained that way had not a pack of demons slipped past the patrol and attacked the village. There had been seven, and while they were not a serious threat, they could have caused a fair amount of damage. The village warriors and those freelancers who had settled for a time in the village had been rallied quickly, but in the end it had been unnecessary. She had arrived at the scene to see a crowd of Amazon's and demon hunters looking on in amazement as the portly man dismembered the demons with ease.

Cologne once more regarded Genma. He was a warrior of skill that few would ever achieve, and such strength was highly valued in Joketsuzoku. It had been enough to get him the audience with her that he so desired; it was not enough, however, to make her spare resources to aid him in his foolish quest. She sympathized with him, having lost many close friends and family members in her many years of life, but giving up even a few Amazon's to help him rescue his son, who may or may not be alive, from a group of demons was simply not practical! The odds of anyone returning alive were slim to none, and the chances of saving his child were even less. She disliked denying him, but her village and people came first.

"Saotome Genma," she began. "While your assistance has been greatly appreciated, I am afraid that your request for aid must be denied." His gaze hardened, indignation flashing across his eyes, but she ignored this and continued. "At the moment, Joketsuzoku cannot spare any warriors. We are already badly pressed by the demons and every available hand is needed to defend the village. I am truly sorry." And she was; needs came before wants, however, and she needed to protect the village.

Genma looked as though he wanted to curse at her, but he held his tongue with a visible effort. Rather than the unflattering words he wanted to utter, he tried a more diplomatic route. "Mistress Cologne," he began. She could tell that it grated on his pride horribly to kowtow to her like that. "Despite all that, I believe that we can reach a compromise. As you know, I am a very skilled martial artist, as is my son. If you assist me, the both of us can aid your village if you are having such trouble."

He certainly was persistent Cologne had to admit. It didn't change her mind, though. "I do not question either your or your son's skill, Mister Saotome, but I highly doubt that the two of you could make up for all of the lives that would be lost. My answer remains unchanged." There was a definite edge to her voice. Genma, fuming in anger, realized this and recognized it for what it was: an order to leave. He didn't say a word as he stood up and left.

'The nerve of that woman!' he thought. 'I have labored for her village and saved its inhabitants! That is more than enough to pay back my debt, but when I try to ask for _their_ help I'm refused! All that Ranma is to them is another number, another warm corpse!' Genma lost himself in his anger, and he fully intended to leave Joketsuzoku at that moment when Cologne's voice cut through his thoughts.

"Still, I will not deny that we are in your debt. If you will stay a while longer, say, a week at most, I will permit you to join one of our upcoming assaults." Genma paused, his rage forgotten for the moment. The old woman had made it obvious that she knew his intentions; she could easily stop him from leaving if she really wanted to, but he was sure that she wouldn't. It just wouldn't be practical, and that was what the crone was all about. This route was practical, however; have him stay in the village and give them his aid with the promise that they would eventually return the favor.

Cologne smiled when he turned around. "Of course, you have to realize that you may not find your son if you do join; there are many demons lurking in these parts, you know, but I do believe that your chances would be far better in a group than they would be alone."

Genma considered the offer for less than a second before giving his assent.

"Excellent. You will be introduced to the team you will be working with tomorrow. That will be all." Cologne smiled again. Genma would make a welcome addition to the village's defenses. His presence would at least insure that whatever group he worked with would have an easier time in their patrols. He would meet them tomorrow so as to better integrate him into the group, but she already knew who he would work with. Her great-granddaughter would only have the best working with her, after all, and Shampoo _was_ in need of a few more competent hands to help her.

***

Ranma once more found himself walking behind the malformed demon that had woken him up that morning. He was still sore from his battles in the arena, but, to his surprise, all of his wounds had been healed afterward; hell, he'd even been given a new set of clothes to wear! This was a new experience for Ranma. During his two week stay at the demon city he had never been anywhere except the arena, his cell, and the hallways between the two. After so long, he was above ground once more, walking along stone streets. The massive cave networks crafted out of the mountainside were quite the sight, and the number of occupants was also staggering; Ranma had never seen so many demons in one place before! It was almost enough to scare him.

They eventually came to a stop outside a large cave. It was different from the others, though; it seemed grander, somehow. Ranma wasn't sure why, but the building gave off a foreboding air that warned him of intense danger. "This is Lord Garuhk's dwelling, human. He has asked to speak to you. When you enter, remember to keep your head down and your voice quiet unless he addresses you." His guide's voice was as cold and contemptuous as ever. Ranma paid him little mind, though, keeping his head held high as he entered. The demon he followed narrowed its eyes angrily, but it said nothing.

The interior of the structure was far from bare, unlike the prison; the walls were covered from top to bottom with swords, guns, bones, and a vast array of other trophies. There was no order, it was a chaotic collection of spoils, but the sheer size of it was impressive. 'I think that thing's teeth are bigger than I am!' he thought in wonder as they passed by the skull of what must have been a gigantic beast in life; it wasn't doing his frayed nerves any good, though, so he tried to ignore it. For a short time, they walked through the cave; Ranma saw a fair number of doors leading off to the sides, but they stayed on the main path.

At the end of the hall was a large room, extending upward and outward for what seemed like miles. And there, in the center of the room, stood the reason for Ranma's nervousness. It was a demon, large, red, and all around nasty looking with waves of power literally rolling off of it. 'Probably that Garuhk that he mentioned,' Ranma thought, feeling more than a little awed.

As they entered, Garuhk looked at them, and Ranma stared right back. "Eyes down!" the weaker demon hissed, for the first time showing emotion. Ranma ignored it, and the demon bowed to the brute in front of them.

Garuhk stared at Ranma, scrutinizing him. He narrowed his eyes, feeling irritation at Ranma's show of defiance, but in the end he let it slide. "This is the human?" he asked the prostrate form beside Ranma.

"Yes, my Lord. It is indeed the human from the pits that you requested to see."

Garuhk smirked, and it took everything Ranma had to stop the shiver threatening to race up is spine. "Then leave, peon! I don't care for your sniveling!" The smaller demon shot to its feet and skittered to the exit. Neither Ranma nor the demon lord spared him any mind. They continued staring until Garuhk broke the silence. "You've got guts, looking at me like that." Ranma said nothing. "I'd kill you for being so insolent if circumstances were different, but as it is, I can't. Count yourself lucky, boy."

"What do you want?" Ranma asked. He knew that it wasn't a good idea to test the demon's patience, but his own had long since vanished.

Garuhk narrowed his eyes. "Careful. Just because I can't kill you doesn't mean I can't hurt you. And believe me, you don't want that; I've had three hundred years of life to perfect the art of torture. I'd have you screaming for days with no end in sight." The demon's smile was perverse, and Ranma couldn't stop the shudder that ran through his body this time. "To answer your question, though, I've called you here to tell you that you're free from the pit. Congratulations!"

Ranma's eyes snapped open, shock jarring his system. Free? He was free? He couldn't stop the elation from welling up inside. Finally, after two weeks of hellish existence in the arena, he was done! It was all he could do to stop from breaking out into a face-splitting grin. A glance at Garuhk's face, though, sobered him. There was, he thought, something decidedly wrong with the look the demon was giving him. And, now that he thought about it, there had been something odd about his voice, almost as if he was taking a sadistic pleasure in something.

Ranma's blood chilled when he heard Garuhk's next words. "It is an honor, after all, to serve one of my standing, especially for a human."

"What?" Ranma cried. "I was promised that I'd be set free after I was done with the pits!" This couldn't be right! He killed things like the beast before him for a living, and now, after a life of demon hunting, he was told to become one of the bastard's _slaves_? He'd rather die!

Garuhk laughed, the force being emitted from his body tripling in strength. The pressure prevented Ranma from moving; he had to strain with all of his might just to stand up straight. Belatedly, he realized that his outburst had angered the demon. He was going to be feeling a lot of pain shortly.

Garuhk didn't disappoint his expectations; faster than Ranma could react, the large demon crossed the distance between them and closed one of his massive hands about Ranma. All pretenses of civility had left his face, leaving only hatred and disgust. Ranma grit his teeth as Garuhk's grip tightened, threatening to snap his body in half. He was in so much pain that his tormentor's words barely registered in his mind. "Watch your mouth." Garuhk's voice sounded calm, but there was an undercurrent of malice that he couldn't hope to miss. "I don't like you human; you may be strong among your kind, and you may even have killed a few lowly demons, but to me, you're nothing! Don't talk back to me until you're strong enough to make me listen!" Garuhk's grip finally relaxed, and Ranma fell onto the floor, gasping for breath. He stayed there for a moment before getting back to his feet. Ranma glared at Garuhk, but didn't say anything; he had learned his lesson.

Garuhk, seeing this spoke again. "You will stay here, you will do as you are told, and you will not complain. I will tell you what I want from you when I say you are ready. Do you understand?" The rage had faded, and Garuhk now appeared to have undergone a complete change. He was cold, contemptuous, and as intimidating as ever. Ranma didn't trust himself to speak, shaken as he was by his recent experience. He just nodded his head.

As he left, Ranma couldn't quell the intense feelings of despair and disgust that rose within him. He didn't know how he would live and work with the things he had devoted his life to exterminating, but he would have to if he ever wanted to escape. With these thoughts, Ranma hobbled off into the shadows of the cave.

**A.N.:** Well, chapter one's over. Tell what me what you thought about it; I just hope it wasn't too disappointing. I plan to finish this regardless of response, but it would be nice if you could offer some advice or even just a few words of support. If there is any element in here that you feel you could use for any purpose of your own, feel free to do so.

That should be all. Until next time!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Ranma ½ or any affiliated characters or concepts.

Well, this is awkward. It's been half a year since my last (first) post, so I probably owe any fans of this story an apology. If any of you are fans, that is. I highly doubt it though.

Anyway, I won't give any excuses for the lateness of this chapter. It was pure laziness on my part, and a healthy dose of apathy. But, at least chapter 2 is up! Who knows when (or if) then next will appear, but try to enjoy this for now.

By the way, both of my reviewers asked about Ranma's curse. Here's my answer.

He doesn't have it, and he won't get it in this story. Why, you ask? Because there's no purpose for it. In cannon, the curse was one of Ranma's main conflicts; it was put it there to give him a hard time, something to struggle with to the story interesting. Ranma has a different struggle in Anarchy, one over his humanity and world views. The curse would really just be redundant. Sorry to any who are disappointed.

Well, thanks to my readers and reviewers. Please give me any of your thoughts, positive or negative, on the story. Enjoy!

Anarchy – Chapter 2

Tokyo had once been a great city, grand buildings towering over the earth for miles in all directions and proud men and women walking its streets. The population had been massive, the capability of that population even more enormous. For three centuries, Tokyo had been all that held the nation of Japan together in a world torn by a war between the earthly and supernatural. It had been a testament to mankind's progression and development as a species; to be a citizen of Tokyo was to be the best that the human race had to offer.

That was what Ryoga had been told, had believed for his entire life. But now, looking at the ruined metropolis, he couldn't help but wonder what it meant to be an inhabitant in the fallen paradise. 'Should I still be proud to be Japanese? Are we really so great? Look at us! We've been reduced to filthy, selfish scavengers fighting for the barest morsel in this huge junk heap. Our nation is hanging on by a thread now.' It was true; the once impressive manmade giants that lined the streets were now lying in wrecks on the ground, the streets were shattered, and thousands of people were leaving each day to escape the danger that the demons posed. The government could barely keep up a semblance of order, and if the attacks didn't stop soon, Tokyo would fall. If that happened, all of the smaller settlements on the islands of Japan, those that relied on Tokyo's aid to sustain themselves, would be overrun and Japan would be lost entirely.

It was a familiar predicament for him. Ryoga had never been a particularly happy individual; his habit of unwittingly wandering off to the most obscure, isolated places the planet had to offer saw to that. The resulting lack of companionship had embittered the young man to the world early in his life, and he would often be overcome by his dark feelings. As time went on and the strain of the demons' assault grew each day, he found that he lost himself to these emotions more and more easily. It frightened him to think what that may eventually lead to.

Just as Ryoga felt his depression grow overwhelming, a voice, an unwelcome one, broke his thoughts. "Hold! What right have you, Hibiki Ryoga, to walk upon these hallowed grounds?"

"Kuno." Ryoga grit his teeth. 'Of all the luck! I just had to wander by the school and that idiot.' Ryoga took in the sight of Furinkan High School, in the center of which he now stood. Of course, it could hardly be described as a school any longer; as the frequency and devastation wrought by the demon attacks had risen, fewer and fewer people had taken to going to school, or even leaving their house at all. The situation had become so bad that all of the schools and many other institutions had been shut down. That didn't stop Kuno from making the ruins of the building his base of operations, though. 'Bastard,' Ryoga thought. 'Too damn self centered to work with the rest of us.' "I was just passing by. I'll be on my way."

He turned, planning on suiting actions to words, but he was met by the sight of Furinkan's dilapidated doors. "What? Those weren't there a second ago." He turned once more and marched off.

"That is the wrong way, knave."

Ryoga grit his teeth again. "Shut up, Kuno! I didn't ask you!" Another turn, another obstacle. "What the hell?" This had grown beyond exasperating. Ryoga made another attempt at navigation, and another, only to be met with the same result. Kuno stood by, waiting patiently.

After a minute of fruitless searching, he whirled on Kuno. "Alright, fine! I'll ask. Where's the exit?" Kuno stepped to the side, revealing the gates behind him. "Damnit!" Ryoga made to leave, mumbling curses to himself, but before he could take more than a few steps, he found his path blocked by Kuno's bokken. "Stop. I did not say that you could leave."

"Get out of my way." Ryoga's voice wasn't loud, but there was a definite undercurrent of irritation; it was a pity that Kuno missed it. "If you don't move, I'll just go through you."

"Hmph. Your empty threats hold no sway over one such as I, foul villain!" Kuno held his sword to the heavens. "On this day, I, Kuno Tatewaki, the Blue Thunder of Nerima, shall smite this base cur and free the beauteous Tendo Akane from his vile clutches!" A bolt of lightning and the resulting crash of thunder punctuated his declaration.

"You're just asking for it, idiot! Bringing Miss Akane into this was a mistake!" Ryoga brought his arms up in front of him and prepared to attack.

Both boys waited, unmoving. The tension slowly built up. Ryoga tensed his muscles, and Kuno followed suit. Then, without warning, they launched themselves towards each other, fist and bokken ready to strike.

"Will you two stop that?" Both of them froze just inches away from contact. Ryoga turned his head to view the speaker and assumed a less aggressive stance.

"Sorry, Miss Akane," he muttered, a hand rubbing the back his head in embarrassment.

Akane sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. "That's alright, Ryoga. Just try not to…"

"Tendo Akane!" She stiffened. "Your presence in my humble abode fills my heart with jubilation!" Ever so slowly, an eyebrow started to twitch. "If you would grace me with a date I…"

"Just shut up!" Akane cried, driving her fist into Kuno's chin. The boy stumbled back before keeling over. "Good riddance," she muttered; Ryoga had to agree.

"Did you want something, Akane?" Ryoga asked of the girl.

She shook her head. "No, I was just passing by when I heard you two. I just thought that I would stop you before you really got going." Akane paused in thought for a moment before favoring him with a smile. "I was heading into town to pick up some groceries for Kasumi. You can come along if you want."

"R-really? Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to impose, but if…" Ryoga trailed off sheepishly. Shoving his nervousness aside and taking a deep breath, he resumed speaking. "Of course I'll come! It's dangerous out there, so we should stick together."

"Alright, then. Let's go."

As they walked through the streets, the condition of the city didn't improve. Everywhere he went, Ryoga could see the devastation; buildings were almost literally falling apart before their eyes, vermin scampered, unchecked, across the path, and vagrants wandered the streets. The smell of filth filled Ryoga's nostrils, and he had to fight to keep from gagging. The city was on its last legs, it appeared. After six months of assault, the entire nation was on the verge of collapse. The thought did nothing to improve his naturally melancholy disposition, so he sought for something to say to keep his mind off of it.

Fortunately, Akane took the initiative. "So, Ryoga, how have you been? It's been a week since I saw you."

Ryoga fought the urge to sigh in relief. "Oh, I've been fine. Just wandering around, really. There've been a few attacks that I came across, but nothing major. How about you? Is your father doing well?"

"I'm doing fine," Akane said."But daddy," her expression turned downcast. "He hasn't been doing too well. He's been under a lot of stress lately, and I think that it's finally wearing him down. He's been really tired recently; all of us have been, to tell the truth. Nabiki and Kasumi are doing especially poorly. They don't have anything to do besides help out around the house. They can't go outside, they can't help fight. I'm really worried about them."

"Don't worry," he tried to assure her. "Your sisters are strong. I'm sure they'll manage to pull through."

"Thanks, Ryoga. You're probably right. I just haven't been feeling too well, I guess."

'That's obvious,' Ryoga thought. She was contradicting herself, she looked like she wasn't getting much sleep, and her bravado in the face of everything that had happened was blatantly false. Ryoga was growing more concerned every time he saw her; it didn't do anything good for his state of mind. Rather than voice his thoughts, though, he turned to other topics, hoping to draw her attention away from her family. "Well, I hope you get better soon. Uh, well…" 'Damn! I'm not any good at this at all!' He struggled with his words for a moment longer. "So, how has Kuno been lately? I hope he hasn't been too much of a problem."

Akane didn't notice his awkward pauses; she was probably too tired, he thought. "Oh, it's been fine, really. Kuno doesn't show up that often, so he can't cause too much trouble, and he's easy enough to handle when he does bother me. Kodachi's another story, though." Akane paused, a scowl taking over her features. "She's been bothering me for months, ever since that stupid school competition. Nothing's happened so far, but it only a matter of time before something does."

Ryoga couldn't fault her assessment. He had met Kuno Kodachi before, and she had left the impression of an arrogant, petty noble who was every bit as irritating as her brother. It didn't surprise him at all that she would still concern herself with something as ridiculous as a school rivalry when Tokyo was under attack.

They had just entered the rundown marketplace when Ryoga's thoughts were rudely interrupted. "Hey!" He grabbed the arm that had been rooting through his pockets. With the demon hordes arriving and order breaking down, Tokyo's crime rate had naturally grown exponentially. Thievery was quite common, pickpockets especially; Ryoga had had more than a few encounters with such individuals, but that did nothing to quell his temper. "You should be more careful about who you decide to steal from!"

He raised his fist to strike the perpetrator when he caught a glimpse of their face. A child's face, to be precise: filthy rags, wide eyes, and racked with tremors. Ryoga immediately felt his heart soften. 'Poor kid,' he thought. 'No one should have to live like this, especially not someone so young.'

The boy's fear grew as Ryoga's hand remained closed around his arm. He opened his mouth, likely to scream, but Ryoga stopped him. "Don't worry, I won't hit you." He rummaged through his pockets for a moment before holding out a small bag of old rice. "Here. Take it." Ryoga released the arm, and the boy quickly snatched the food before running off.

Akane stepped up to him. "That was a very kind thing you did. You should be proud."

"Yeah, I know." Ryoga crossed him arms, scowling. "The least he could've done was thanked me, though."

"Don't worry about it," she said, smiling. "The fact that you can still be so generous is what's important. Even if he didn't say anything, I'm sure that he's grateful."

Looking at her, Ryoga felt suddenly faint of breath, and the temperature seemed to grow hotter by the second. He felt inexplicably embarrassed and averted his eyes. "W-well, you know, it didn't seem right to let the kid go hungry."

Akane giggled. "Of course not. That's why I like you, Ryoga. You're always worrying about everyone else. If everyone else could be so selfless, just think how much different our lives would be right now."

As they walked past the dirty vendors, hawking their wares from the shambles of their stores, Ryoga thought. 'If everyone was like me? Selfless? You give me too much credit, Miss Akane. I'm not such a great person. No one is.' Even so, he couldn't help but feel more pleased with himself and the world than he had for a long time.

Genma rolled the corpse over with his foot. The demon was definitely dead, just like the rest of the pack. Unfortunately, there was no sign of Ranma, or any human at all. He had known that the prospects of finding the boy were unlikely, especially given that this was the first 'hunting party' he'd been a part of since Ranma's capture, but that thought couldn't stop the bitter disappointment from welling up inside. They may not have had the best relationship, but they were family, and that was one of the few things that Genma treasured. As the boy's father, it had been his responsibility to protect him, but he had failed in that task miserably. How could he ever face his wife if their only child died on his watch? How could he ever face himself?

These thoughts had driven him for the past few weeks. They had led him across the wilderness of China, to the Amazons, and now on these excursions. His allies consisted of ten young men and women and two older warriors. Most of them were inexperienced, and it showed in their performance and the resulting injuries. Still, there were enough skilled fighters to prevent any deaths, and ever since they had left the village a day ago, they had removed more than a few nests of the beasts that plagued humanity.

It was a hollow comfort. They may be protecting the Amazon's home, but Genma hadn't signed up to help these people; he wanted to help his son. No progress was being made on that front, though. The Amazons may have provided him with allies, but they refused to move offensively; they knew of large settlements of demons, but they only ever removed those beasts that got too close to their territory. He would give them a few more weeks before leaving on his own, but their defensive tactics were beyond frustrating!

"Saotome! We're setting up camp nearby! Are you going to help, or what?" Genma grumbled as he walked over to the rest of the group to help with preparations. That was another thing that bothered him: these stupid Chinese absolutely refused speak his native language! Being unable to say anything coherent to these barbarians made him feel like an idiot. It was almost enough to make him miss that horrible old crone, Cologne. Despite having stuck him with these dumb kids, she had at least been cordial enough to speak a dialect they both understood.

The group set up camp efficiently, and within half an hour all thirteen of them were eating a cold dinner; the risks of starting a fire were too great so far away from the village. Three of them stood guard around the edges while the rest made light chatter or prepared to go to sleep under the hastily constructed shelters. Genma was of the latter group; he had no desire to make a fool of himself by attempting to speak a language he could barely comprehend, and even if he could speak Mandarin fluently, there wasn't anything that he would want to talk about. Unfortunately, one of his companions had other ideas.

"Are you already that tired, outsider? Perhaps you should head back to the village tomorrow. We don't need you slowing us down, after all."

'Shampoo,' Genma thought. He turned to look at the young girl, and she met his condescending glare with her own. Ever since they had met a week ago, the two had rubbed each other the wrong way. He couldn't say exactly what about her he disliked and neither could she of him, but they had immediately taken to butting pride at their first meeting. They took pleasure in outperforming and humiliating each other at every opportunity. Shampoo held her Amazon heritage and fluent language above him, while Genma mocked her with his superior skill in martial arts. Any interaction between the two of them was bound to be unpleasant, a fact that the others had learned.

"Shouldn't down talk to betters, little girl," Genma said in his broken Mandarin."Make look like idiot later." Genma had to cringe, albeit internally, after speaking. Judging by Shampoo's snort he wasn't the only one who though his little jab was laughable. Once again Genma cursed the Chinese and their ridiculous language.

"You should spare your breath, old man. You're only humiliating yourself." Genma bit back a snarl as Shampoo turned away. That arrogant child was beyond a pain! He couldn't wait for this little camping trip to end!

'Well, at least I can get some sleep tonight,' he thought. Just as he was settling down, though, Shampoo turned her head over her shoulder.

"By the way, you've got the second watch. Don't get too comfortable." This time Genma didn't bother holding back as he expressed his frustrations quite verbally.

"Feeling tired, human?" The voice was mocking him; Ranma understood that much, although he was unable to decipher each of the foreign words. He had learned very little of the language the demons spoke in the time he had been held captive by them. He'd memorized a few of the more common words, but his hostility toward anything to do with the beasts quelled any real desire he had to learn. As it was, knowing what little of the language he did was enough to get by, and it was more than enough for him.

Blinking the stinging sweat from his eyes and adjusting the heavy stone on his shoulders, he continued up the mountain path. Step after step he ascended the jagged slope, struggling to keep up with the other laborers. He wasn't sure how long he'd been at the task, but it had to have been hours; the sun had barely crested the horizon when he had started, and it had almost reached it zenith, now. His body ached, both from the strain of carrying the heavy rock and the bruises he had accumulated in his nightly spars with Garuhk's retainers. Ranma had quickly come to realize just why the demon was named Great Tormentor. He was growing to hate that sadist more and more with each passing day.

Lost in thought, Ranma pushed himself on, trying to ignore the pain. It was minutes later, though it seemed far longer to him, that they at last reached their destination. He didn't bother to hide his relieved groan as he tossed his burden onto a large pile of debris that they had been building all day. Ranma wasn't sure about the specifics, but apparently some structure had given way to stress some time ago; the scrap in front of him was what was left of it. Being used by demons to pick up trash should have offended him, but he had grown used to it in the past week, so it hardly bothered him.

They all milled about for a few moments. Some of the demons immediately headed for the water basins, some sat down to rest, and the others formed small groups, breaking into conversation. Ranma stood there for a moment, feeling awkward. He felt that, as the only human in the midst of dozens of demons, he should be the center of attention. Ranma didn't know why, and he was thankful, but the demons seemed to pay him no mind. 'It's odd,' he thought. 'I've always remembered them as rampaging freaks of destruction. They always seemed so savage when I was on the road, but now they're talkin' and eatin' like regular folks. Looking at them now, they almost seem human.' That was a disturbing train of thought, one that he quickly derailed.

He took a moment to quench his thirst and returned to his pondering. Now that he wasn't preoccupied with the hard labor, he finally had a chance to take in his surroundings. Their troupe was stationed at the summit of one of the smaller mountains that surrounded the demon's settlement, and as such, he was afforded a wonderful view of the landscape. The mountains stretched onward to his left and right, going so far that they disappeared from his sight. Behind him stood the city that the demons made their home, encircled and confined by the rock giants of the Bayankala range, and far below him were the sprawling forests of China. It really was amazing, now that he took the time to look at it. It was relaxing to lose himself in the sights of nature after so long in captivity; it was becoming almost too easy, considering his current company.

His musing was interrupted when one of the demons shouted something in their guttural tongue. The crowd of workers let loose an exultant cheer and began wandering off. 'The dismissal, I guess.' Ranma made to follow, but before he could, one of them approached him.

"Think you is go somewhere, human?" This particular specimen was obviously not very fluent in Japanese, but it was a touch more skilled at the language than most of them. That was likely why it had been chosen for this particular duty; Garuhk never let him go anywhere without one of his followers to keep an eye on him, and this demon had the misfortune to be assigned that task this day.

Ranma made no attempt to reply, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the demon's control over him. His captor snorted but said no more as it led him down to the city. Their pace was slow to accommodate for Ranma's battered body; with every step some part of him flared in pain. It grew particularly bad when his dragging feet caught on an edge and he tumbled to the ground. Gasping, both from shock and pain, Ranma pushed himself to his feet. He took a short moment to evaluate his injuries. Ranma found nothing new, a small blessing, but he was not looking forward to his nightly spar; he had enough trouble with Garuhk's men when he was at the top of his game. The demon guiding him waited impatiently for him to recover and resumed its march the moment he regained his feet. 'Bastard,' Ranma thought as he struggled forward.

They reached the winding paths of the city after half an hour. Just like the landscape surrounding it, the city itself was breathtaking; the ground level was rather unimpressive, consisting of nothing but worn down rock and dirt, and it was covered with filth and dead carcasses that no one had seen fit to dispose of. However, the towering formations of rock, both natural and not, with their network of caves and paths were truly impressive. He felt very small, being surrounded by such massive and foreign structures.

The inhabitants, too, were an odd sight to him. There were beasts of all different manners: animal and humanoid, disfigured and noble, old and young, and many varieties that he had never encountered. During his time killing demons, Ranma had met many species, but these ones seemed different. They seemed intelligent, he thought. They seemed complex, and they seemed nothing at all like how Ranma thought they should be. Perhaps they really were more human than they appeared?

This was too surreal for him to handle, and he sought desperately for anything to reinforce the image of savagery and brutality that he had come to associate with demons in the past. 'There,' he thought, 'that one's beating that other to death.' And indeed it was. A hulking mass of grey muscle was brutalizing a smaller form. He heard shouting in their native language, and even though he couldn't understand anything being said, he could see that it was a squabble over some petty crime. A crowd had formed around the two, hooting and cheering and laughing. It was disturbing, but at the same time reassuring to Ranma; it was something he expected of the beasts.

Ranma moved away from the spectacle, finding other displays of barbarity to preoccupy him. Everywhere he looked he could find something wrong with these things; one was sitting in the middle of the road, mutilating and feasting on some creature, uncooked and bloody. Another was taking delight in tormenting a group of wild-looking animals as it led them along the road. Just in front of him was a group of what appeared to be children, laughing as they desecrated the remains of what had once been a living thing.

'They really are monsters,' he thought. He felt reassured, but at the same time there remained an undercurrent of uneasiness that ran through his soul. Something was wrong with him; staying here, living, eating, and working alongside his mortal enemies was changing him, warping him, and he didn't like it one bit. The brutish acts surrounding him now seemed too awful to look at, as though he was only now seeing them for the horrifying things that they were. For the rest of the walk, he kept his eyes to the ground, hoping to avoid looking at anything.

Ranma and his guide followed a path that had become familiar to him over the last week; from the jagged mountains were he labored, down into the hellish pit that was the demons' home, through the filthy and sin-filled streets, all the way to Garuhk's oppressive dwelling. They entered the large cave, passed by Garuhk's trophies, and continued along the main path. Ranma didn't think anything of it until he realized he was standing right outside of Garuhk's chambers, the place he had first met the demon.

"Lord Garuhk speaks with you now, human," the guide said in its broken Japanese.

Ranma nodded and entered the room, feeling apprehensive. Garuhk didn't seem nearly as intimidating now as he had when he was crushing Ranma within his fist, but the Great Tormentor had left quite the impression. He couldn't quite remember where he had learned the meaning of the demon lord's name, but it was a fitting title.

"Welcome back, human." Garuhk sounded as cruel as ever as he greeted his ward. "I trust you have grown used to your little routine?" Ranma's only reply was a quick nod. "Good. It won't be changing anytime soon. Now, you have a spar coming up in half an hour, so I'll be quick about this." Here, the red behemoth rose to his feet, revealing his impressive stature. "You have been here for a week, so you must know by now how we treat the weak; they are to stepped on and used by those stronger than them, and any who fall under the pressure will be left to rot. You haven't fallen yet, but think that means you've won our respect. You have a long way to go, and you _will_ go all the way."

Ranma's eyebrows rose. "What? You _want_ me to get stronger? Are you so stupid that you haven't realized I'll kill you all when the time comes?" It was only after his mouth had stopped working that he realized his folly. 'Shit,' he thought. 'There's no way this bastard will let that go!'

Garuhk growled, a fearsome noise coming one such as the demon lord. "I think you still haven't fully comprehended your situation. You'll have five more rounds tonight before you retire. Don't die." Ranma had to hold back a curse. Him and his dumb mouth! As if being exhausted wasn't enough, he'd now have to deal with a whole new plethora of injuries and even fewer hours of sleep than his regular four. This situation was just getting worse with every step he took.

After calming down sufficiently, Ranma spoke once again to Garuhk. "So, why do you want me to get stronger, again?"

The demon regarded him with bored eyes. "You don't need to know yet, and believe me, you won't know until I decide that it's necessary."

"Then why did you want to see me?" Ranma was beyond frustrated; he could be using this time to catch a little nap before his fights. Why did he have to waste it like this?

"A reminder, human. I'm letting you know that you're still at my beck-and-call and that you have a purpose to serve. I don't want you getting any stupid ideas about escape into your head."

Ranma grit his teeth, fighting back the ever growing urge to curse the brute standing before him. "Is that all, then?" Garuhk nodded, and Ranma quickly took his leave; he had to catch some rest in the few minutes he had to himself. Then it was back to the grindstone.

Once more, sorry for the wait. If you have anything to comment on (especially the characterization of everyone in the story, which I feel is sometimes a little sketchy) please tell me. Believe me, I won't take offense unless outright insult me or work; I always look to improve.


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